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Saturday, September 29, 2012

Contests are over and winners have been sent their prizes...

And now it's time to flaunt the latest cover...
This will first be on sale at Romanticon at the book signing.  But the official release date will be November 23, 2012.
My menage collection...

I would love to see Hallie's Cats and Licking Her Wounds released in a print collection...
  
So...what's next?  All my finished books are scheduled for publication...so this means I have to get back to...shudder...work.  I have been playing with two or three wips, but not doing much in the way of adding thousands of words.  I am playing with a possible sequel to Jillian's Job...she has lots of hot, sexy big brothers.  Trying to decide which ones I want to write about.  Hmmm...how about her twin older siblings finding a woman to share?  That's something to chew on for awhile.

Here is a tidbit from another wip that I have been working on...
Excerpt:

Sex for My Mercenary
Copyright 2012 by Fran Lee

She needs me?

What a crock of shit. Last time he’d let that phrase sway him, he’d been screwed out of his R&R as well as half of his off-time compensation. No way was he gonna feel sorry for that woman. Once was enough as far as Kale was concerned. The bitch could take her ‘you’re my best, Kale…I need you’ crap and peddle it elsewhere.

Now, if it was a hot night of sex she was peddling, I just might buy.

The boss woman had an ass that made a grown man whimper. Legs that could wrap around a body and pull that sweet pussy in tight against his throbbing cock. Yeah. He might buy that. But as for her sexy little smile and those empty, tricky words ‘I need you’? Screw that. The only “need” he was gonna respond to for the next month was a tight wet pussy and a pair of nice tits. Granted E had more than enough in the nice tits department, but he wasn’t about to give up a sure thing for a fantasy and wet dreams.

Boss or no boss, Elena Delgado could take her “needs” to hell with her. He had needs of his own right now, and one of them was standing at attention just thinking about the Ice Bitch. She had a fucking lot of gall to ask him to take on a last-minute job when his planned R&R was only a few hours away. Knowing E like he did, she would probably have him diving right back into some nasty job that would keep his crew out for another three months. After the shit hole he and his men had just come out of, he was ready to kick back with a hot babe or two on a warm holo-beach with a cold beer. Or six.

Not necessarily in that order.

He ran a callused hand over his face and swore evilly under his breath at the sound of regulation uniform two-inch heels clicking angrily down the hall toward his cabin. Slamming and locking the drawer of his wall-safe, he swung impatiently around to face the woman who lived to make his life hell as she entered without knocking and closed the door behind her.

“E…you really should knock. What if I’d been jacking off?” His lips curled wickedly as those dark brown eyes quickly jumped to his firmly-closed fly and back to his face.

“You asshole. You can’t get away with trying to ignore me. I hailed you six times in the last ten minutes. Do I have to pull your R&R to get your attention?” He always got hard when the bitch talked to him in that sexy, smoky voice of hers. And he loved it when she swore at him. Made him feel special.

“You wouldn’t, E. I’m your ‘best man’, remember? You wouldn’t do something that would lose you your hardest-working employee, now…would you?” His challenging tone had the desired effect on her as she blushed from the opening of that low-cut pseudo-silk blouse to the roots of her tightly bound hair. Damn, he loved it when he made her do that. Shit. There’d been a time when he would’ve given his left nut to fuck the boss woman. God, how he’d dreamed of her on those long cold nights in space. But dreaming and wishing will get you nothing, stupid.  He knew she was so far out of his class it would never happen. Now, he just lived to enjoy flustering and frustrating the shit out of her at every turn.
 

 Not sure whether to pimp this one as one of EC's Men's line...

What do you think?

Hugs!

Fran Lee
 

  

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Claimed By Dragons Book Trailer



Our new book trailer is here. My husband "The Jackman" made this trailer and I love it! The beautiful music is from Kaya Project. The track is "The Source" from the album "So It Goes". Enjoy. 

The Dragons Have Landed

Claimed By Dragons is here and ready for download.

Buy HERE


In an odd Wiccan shop in Salem, Jael pulls an unusual stone from a witch’s wish bag. Little does she know her wildest dreams of adventure and a torrid affair with two gorgeous co-workers are about to come true—in spades.

Jael’s dreamy boss, Roarke offers her the assignment of a lifetime: a photo safari to Mount Kilimanjaro. The African scenery is stunning but the unexpected arrival of her two office crushes, Roarke and Kypton ignites her passion. Just as the trio is getting steamy at a beautiful waterfall, danger intervenes forcing the men to reveal their secret. They're dragons. And now, to save her life, they have no choice but to abduct a startled Jael to their mountain lair on Kilimanjaro.

In the dragons' love nest, Jael learns the truth about their origins and explores all the erotic possibilities two eager lovers can offer. Love awakens, but the guys are being stalked by a covert group of dragon hunters and withholding a life or death secret that will push Jael’s courageous heart and commitment to the limits.
  • Note:This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, menage (m/m/f).

Excerpt:

Jael drew an anxious breath as she reached into the black felt bag. Choosing a stone from the wish bag started off as a trivial, touristy thing to do in a Salem witch’s shop, but now it felt heavy with importance, as if the choice truly mattered.

The atmosphere of the funky little Wiccan store, Silver Moon Scrying Shoppe, was charged with a strange excitement. She thrust her hand deeper into the bag and allowed a variety of smooth stones to tumble between her fingers.

“Let your fingers do the work.” Witch Casey leaned closer to better see Jael’s actions. “Don’t think about it. Let your heart guide the choice.”

Jael closed her eyes to block out the sounds around her and the overt, curious stares of her girlfriends Arcona, Becca, and Devon, who hovered near, watching her every move.

She concentrated on the stones. Casey, a renowned witch of Salem, Massachusetts, had told them they’d know when they found their stone, but Jael had yet to feel that telling inner ping of certainty as she stirred the stones with her fingertips.

A skeptic at heart, Jael wasn’t sure she’d believed in the hokeypokey magic of the town prior to coming. It’d been her friends’ idea. This minireunion of her three closest college friends had been a big wake-up call. Time was passing. They were all in their thirties now. Seeing them was a sharp reminder of the many dreams she once cherished but had allowed to languish.

In her college days she’d fully believed she’d be a globe-hopping, peer-respected nature photographer by now, but too many mundane obligations, like paying rent and eating, had prevented that dream from materializing.

Her friends thought visiting the town of the famous witch trials and infamous hangings would be a fun autumn trip. It was a weird choice, but they’d been right. There were so many amazing shops where curious souls could get a tarot-card reading or have their palms read. She was desperate to hear a little hint about what her future love life might hold. There wasn’t much going on in that department now.

They went on ghost tours, to a museum, and the walking tour was incredible. Jael loved anything historic, so strolling the streets and seeing homes that dated back hundreds of years intrigued her.

The most poignant part, and without doubt the saddest, was the monuments for the men and women who were accused of witchcraft and hanged. The nineteen bench-like stones bore the names of those who’d suffered a horrible death. The cemetery next door added a certain creepiness to the scenery. Jael felt sorry for those who’d lost their lives. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be dragged out of jail, brought to a tree, and hanged for the town to witness and cheer.

Jael continued to absently stir the cool, clattering stones between her fingers.

“Wow, you’re being so picky,” Becca teased. “Just choose a stone, already!”

“Choose?” Devon laughed. “Jael doesn’t commit. You know how she is. She’ll drag this out all day and still not make a clear choice.”

“That’s not true.” Jael jolted back to reality, realizing she’d completely forgotten what she was doing and why. “Don’t rush me,” she whispered. “This is important. I want to choose the right one.”

“You’re going to chose just one?” Arcona scoffed with a gentle smile on her lips. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“Why are you all ganging up on me?” Jael laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with being choosy and having a plan B and a plan C…especially where love is concerned.” She refocused her attention on the wish bag. Blindly touching the polished stones and listening to soft clicking sounds they made was almost hypnotic.

“Aha!” Arcona interrupted. “Now we know you’re going to use your wish on love. What a shocker.”

“Hey, I need it!” Jael dug her hand deeper into the wish bag. “My love life has been bleak.” One stone finally stood out from the others. She felt heat cover her fingertips as if she were being drawn to a single piece of hot lava. She wrapped her fingers around the stone and pulled it from the bag with a victorious flourish. “I found it!”

She gazed at the rock lying in her palm. It looked like two stones fused together. The egg-shaped stone was opaque on one side and a translucent purplish on the other. The purple reminded her of an amethyst, while the other was a mottled dusty shade of rose.

“Oh, Jael, that is an odd-looking stone.” Arcona reached for Jael’s hand to tip the sparkling stone toward the light. “It’s beautiful when things you’d never think would fuse together mix.” She stared at the stone in wonder. “The world is full of weird stuff, isn’t it?”

Jael looked from the two-sided stone to her friend. “It is different.” She glanced at Witch Casey to see if she had any advice as to why she’d chosen such a stone.

“Interesting, but not surprising.” Witch Casey shook her head with her lips firmly pinched together.

Jael couldn’t read the woman’s eccentric gesture.

“A dual stone is often attracted to an undecided person,” Witch Casey spoke tersely.

“Undecided?” Jael stiffened and crossed her arms in a defensive manner. She’d been often accused of being indecisive in the past, and it hurt. Obviously Witch Casey had been eavesdropping. “Are you referring to me?”

“Of course I’m referring to you.” Witch Casey planted her fist firmly on her hip as she confronted Jael. “You’re the one holding the dual stone, not me.”

“What do you mean by undecided?” Jael knew where this was going. Witch Casey would now deliver a trite and highly predictable forecast about her future love life. She braced for the safe little clich├ęs she knew were headed her way.

Witch Casey arced her hands dramatically through the air. “Your heart is always in two places at once and refuses to choose a lasting home. Am I right?”

Jael slightly recoiled. Witch Casey was right. The way the woman spoke with utter authority sent a shiver up her spine.

All her life she’d rushed toward one goal when secretly desiring another. She longed for a stable relationship, even a family, but another rogue part of her soul wanted to ditch her responsibilities, pick up a camera, and flee to the exotic wilds of Africa to fulfill her creative dreams. The same went for men. She could never make up her mind. Variety was the spice of life.

“There might be some truth in what you’re saying,” Jael sheepishly answered Witch Casey.

Witch Casey’s eyes flashed. “Might?”

Arcona leaned close to Jael’s ear. “I remember our last semester. You were always dating at least two guys at once and trying to keep it a secret. It never stayed secret.”

Jael silently admitted her love life was a disaster of indecision. She’d never met a man who fulfilled all her needs. Okay, maybe one man—Roarke, the gorgeous guy at her office, was a thrilling date for a friends-with-benefits type of evening, but a more solid relationship never quite gelled. Deep down she knew why.

They were two of a kind. Roarke was almost as undecided and commitment shy as she was. He would pant after her with lustful looks, coax and almost beg her to visit his apartment. When she gave in, the sex was always hot. Roarke was a total turn-on. Her hopes would rise that maybe Roarke was the one, and then nothing would happen for weeks at a time. No pursuit, no invitations back to his bed. It was as if Roarke would deny himself her company until he couldn’t stand it a moment longer; then he would call.

She’d noticed Roarke’s nightstand was fully stocked with condoms and every exotic brand of lube on the market, so she had to suspect he enjoyed other lovers as well, which hurt. She wanted to be someone special to him, and apparently she wasn’t. Obviously there was another.

“Would you like me to do a card reading for you?” Witch Casey interrupted the silence. “It might clarify a few of those undecided thoughts.”

“I don’t know…” Jael’s gaze darted anxiously between her friends. Their visit was nearly at an end. She wondered if her friends would willingly wait while Witch Casey sorted through the confusing details of her elusive love life. Probably not.

“You should do it.” Arcona shot Jael an encouraging smile. “Accept the card reading. Isn’t that why we walked in here in the first place—to get a little insight?”

Jael was suddenly nervous and excited to hear what Witch Casey had to say. “Are you sure you don’t mind? It really cuts into our last hour together.”

“I want you to do it.” Arcona wrapped her arms around Jael and hugged her like a loving sister. “And I expect to hear all about it later,” she said softly. “Don’t hold anything back. Actually I’m thinking of calling it a day. I have an early flight home, so I think I’ll say good-bye to everyone now.”

Arcona gently released Jael and hugged Devon and Becca as well. “It was so good to be with all of you again. You still feel like sisters.” She headed toward the front door. “I need some fresh air. I’m going to walk back to my hotel. It was so good seeing everyone. I love you all!” She waved. “I’ll be calling everybody later to hear about exactly what happened after I left.”

Jael watched Arcona wander out the door of the Silver Moon Scrying Shoppe, clutching the piece of amber she’d pulled from the wish bag and looking a bit distracted. A part of her worried for Arcona, and she wondered if she’d been unwise to allow her friend to walk away alone.

“Let’s sit in the corner where we can have some peace.” Witch Casey steered Jael toward a small table set with a melted tallow candle and two chairs. She encouraged Jael to take the chair facing the window.

Jael sat. Her gaze drifted toward Devon and Becca, who were standing on the far side of the shop trying desperately not to look like they were eavesdropping when clearly they were.

Witch Casey sat opposite Jael.

Jael looked closely at Witch Casey for the first time and noticed how beautiful the older woman was. Witch Casey had curly red hair that cascaded to her shoulders and piercing blue eyes swept with a thick fringe of black lashes that looked convincingly real. Something about her crisp profile reminded Jael of the classic beauties of old Hollywood. “You have such a wonderful face. May I ask where you’re from?”

“I’m originally from Greece. Do I look familiar?” A brilliant smile lit Witch Casey’s face. “I used to be known as the second most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Were you a runner-up in a Miss Universe pageant?” Jael asked innocently.

“No.” Witch Casey shook her head. “Helen of Troy was hailed as the most beautiful woman in the world, and I don’t begrudge her the title. Helen was breathtaking. No one could argue with that. I earned the dismal title of ‘Cassandra,’ the second most beautiful woman in the world, after I spurned Apollo’s amorous advances.”

“Apollo who?”

“The Apollo!” Witch Casey looked scandalized. “My goodness, there’s only one. I must say, being hailed as the king of the gods, driving a golden chariot, and having grabby hands are a bad combination.”

“You mean Apollo, the Greek sun god?”

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Coming September 26th...

Never Tempt Fate
Fran Lee

Excerpt:

Copyright 2012 Fran Lee and Ellora's Cave

Chris threw her jacket over the back of the chair and kicked off her high heels. She had promised Mrs. Allen that she would vacuum the lobby and polish the first floor paneling after she got off work, and the bus had been terribly late. She tore off her silk blouse and her skirt and dragged on a rather ugly-looking old T-shirt and a pair of well-worn Levi’s, jamming her bare feet into her ratty old sneakers. She hurried through to the bathroom, pulling her hair up off her neck with her hands as she looked for a scrunchy to secure it with.

She glanced at her watch after securing her flyaway mop and hoped Mrs. Allen wouldn’t be too upset about her vacuuming after six. It shouldn’t disturb anyone. Mrs. Abbott was as deaf as a post and Mr. Delayne worked afternoons. They were the only ones who complained all the time. She grabbed the utility room key off the hook by her door and hurried along the hall to the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. It probably wouldn’t work anyway.

She hoped she’d made a good impression on Mr. Anderson today. She’d worked through her lunch hour to get her office set up. The previous person in the position had left a stack of work that dated back seventeen months. It would take her weeks to get it all sorted out. She was hungry and tired and she still had to do the cleaning she’d promised to do.

She hurried down the steps and through the fire door on the first floor and headed for the utility closet across from the manager’s apartment. She wouldn’t have a spare minute to check the paper for rentals until after eight, and nobody liked to be bothered by phone calls that late. She had tried valiantly to look through the ads on the bus, but standing and hanging onto a damn strap had made it impossible.

As she dragged the ancient Kirby from the closet and plugged it in, she wondered if she might be able to get an actual seat if she left half an hour earlier in the morning. The trip was pretty lousy standing in the aisle. It was a five block walk to the bus stop, then a thirty minute bus trip on her feet, then another three block walk to the office. Her feet were killing her. Tomorrow she would wear her sneakers and carry her heels in a shopping bag.

She jabbed the switch on the vacuum with her toe, and when it whirred to life she quickly and efficiently worked her way along one end of the main hallway, then the other, before heading for the entryway and lobby. She backed around the corner and avoided knocking the antique lamp off the hall table, working her way toward the main entrance.

If she hurried, maybe she would be finished before Mrs. Allen even got home.

* * * * *
The car slid to a halt before the steps leading up into the lobby of what must have once been a rather elegant apartment building. As Jose opened the door for him, Tonio stepped out, frowning at the untrimmed shrubbery that half-obliterated the uneven, broken concrete of the sidewalk. The place had been utterly neglected for what appeared to be quite some time. He knew that his father had always insisted on his properties being kept up, but this one had somehow been missed. He glanced at the peeling paint on the wood around the front entryway and nodded  at his driver. “I won’t be long.”

He climbed the cracked concrete of the front steps and removed his leather glove to push open the sadly neglected oak and glass doors. The sound of a vacuum cleaner met his ears as he stepped inside and glanced about, and he paused as a woman appeared around the corner from the right hallway, her back to him as she negotiated the turn, jabbing the whirring edge of the Kirby into the corner and under a table.

He noted how quickly she was moving, as if in a hurry, and he wondered if this could be the manager. He glanced at the paper in his hand, and as he lifted his eyes the darting vacuum attempted to eat the toe of his hand-made Italian shoe. He stared down at the offending machine, irritated that its operator had been so careless. He drew a deep breath as the vacuum was shut off and a startled voice gasped, “Oh my God! I am so sorry!”

“No terrible damage done,” he breathed in a well-controlled voice, lifting his eyes up the worn jeans, over a baggy T-shirt to meet a pair of horrified green eyes, and he had to stop himself from laughing out loud. She looked so utterly stricken that he found it difficult not to smile. He inhaled slowly, noting the smudge of dirt across her nose and the way her mouth had dropped open wordlessly as she stared up into his face.

He lifted one brow and asked quietly, “Mrs. Allen?”

She shook her head jerkily and stammered, “No—no—I’m not. I mean, I’m not her. Mrs. Allen, that is.” He noted the high color staining her cheeks and sensed that she was fighting some inner battle as she seemed to struggle to calm herself. She tore her eyes from his face and looked down at the scuffed shoe. “I’m really terribly sorry about that. I hope it isn’t ruined.” He found himself trying very hard not to smile.

He glanced at the toe of his shoe and shook his head. “It’ll survive,” he drawled. He lifted his eyes back to her face and wondered what it was about her that reminded him of a Renoir painting. She was not what he might call beautiful, yet there was something in the way she held herself. A touch of sensual elegance, despite the shabby clothes and the tousled coppery hair, that made him sense there was far more to her than met his practiced eye. His eyes rested thoughtfully on the agitated rise and fall of her rounded breasts beneath her well-worn T-shirt—his cock jerked to instant attention.

He unwillingly lifted his eyes from her chest, inhaled deeply and caught the light bouquet of a delicate floral fragrance. He noted the way her eyes would not lift above his chin when she looked back up, as if she were afraid to meet his gaze.

“Is Mrs. Allen here?” he asked softly, noting the fresh wave of brilliant pink that flooded her cheeks.
She seemed to force herself to smile politely and reply in a calm tone. “She’ll be back in about an hour. Have you come to look at the apartment?”

He lifted one dark brow again. “Yes. I’m here to see it.” This was an excellent opportunity to look the place over. He noted the way her face fell a little at his reply and he wondered why she seemed suddenly unhappy to show him the apartment that was available
.
As she hesitated, he said softly, “Perhaps I should wait for Mrs. Allen.”

She drew a shaky breath. She shrugged and shoved the Kirby out of the way, fishing in her pocket for the key. “It’s on the third floor. I’ll show it to you.” She seemed upset for some reason. “Come on.” She headed for the elevator.

Tonio followed her along the faded carpet, which had obviously once been very expensive but was now badly worn and in need of replacement. His eyes slid over the oak paneling that had long been left un-oiled and the dingy wallpaper of a bygone era clinging forlornly to the walls and ceiling. This Mrs. Allen was certainly not a very good manager.

He was sure his father would never have allowed this place to run down so. His eyes shifted once again to the woman walking ahead of him and he was mildly surprised to notice that under those loose, unattractive jeans and that horrible shirt there was an uncommonly well-made female body. He let his gaze move appreciatively over the swaying bottom, recalling those succulent breasts, then he drew himself up.

No time for those kinds of thoughts. There was far too much to be done. She couldn’t be much over twenty-five, yet her eyes told him she was older. Bad experiences, perhaps. He watched as she pushed the button for the elevator, and as she turned to him with a polite smile he noted that the smile did not quite reach her green eyes.

She cleared her throat and said, “The elevator is pretty slow—when it works.”

He wondered why she seemed irritated with him so suddenly. It was as if he had run over her toe! It was unusual to see antagonism in a woman’s eyes. He was used to quite a different reaction. Her reaction to him at first had been what he expected. What had made it change so rapidly? Why the hell did he care? She was nothing to him, personally.

He gave himself a mental shake. She was no one—an unimportant female working in one of his apartment buildings. Obviously paid to clean the place and doing a very poor job of it at that. Yet the feeling that she did not seem to find him at all attractive made him instinctively want to test the depths of these waters. Perhaps it was simply a matter of male pride. Then he smiled to himself. She had no idea who he was or how rich he was. 

That could be the problem.

I have a contest running from now through release day to win a copy of this book.  Check out the "Contests" page on my website at http://www.franleeromance.com.

 Hugs and good luck!

Fran Lee

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Get Strixed With More Strix!


The Strix is a vampire tale of enchantment gone terribly wrong but it’s also a story of redemption and connecting with our better angels. I loved that this story allowed me to write one woman’s two very different experiences, in two very different time periods with the same man.





This excerpt (rated R) takes place on a densely wooded sacred island on the Rhine. Arcona has just taken a vow of chastity and completed a lonely vigil and initiation to the Goddess Nerthus, when she is discovered by Roman soldiers and taken captive.
78 AD
Arcona crouched on the gravel beach. The wet river stones left her soaked and shivering. She carefully concealed her empty hands in the folds of her tunic and tried to stare the Roman soldiers down, knowing it was only a matter of moments before they realized she wasn’t armed and rushed in on her.
Why did she leave her knife by the campfire? It was foolish. At least with a weapon in her hand she could die fighting.
The soldiers stealthily fanned in a half circle around her. Their intense gazes never broke. She had the feeling she was an exotic animal trapped in a snare. The icy river and Hedron’s dead body were at her back. She refused to glance behind her and look at them. Her heart couldn’t bear it.
Several of the Romans appeared to be her age or younger. She guessed these men were scouts and not seasoned centurions. They had a light dusting of black whiskers on the sides of their jaws and muscular, compact bodies. Their breath came quickly, and despite the cold morning, perspiration glistened on their sun-browned skin. The youngest men possessed a feral, undisciplined look in their dark eyes. Those men scared her the most.
The legate wore a deep crimson cloak and an ornate sword belt and appeared to be the most mature man in the group. “Come here.” He coaxed her forward with the wave of his hand. “I want to look at you.”
“By Jupiter, their women are dirty,” one of the soldiers said in disgust. “Look at the filthy rags wrapped around her arms.”
“She’s been injured.” The legate hissed a warning at the man to be silent.
The man sheepishly shut his mouth.
Another soldier darted forward, threw his arms around Arcona, and knocked her to the ground.
Arcona hit the gravel beach with a thud. The soldier landed hard on top of her and pinned her. His weight pushed down on her until it was difficult to draw breath.
The soldier snarled in her face. “The legate wants to look at you; don’t ignore him!”
“There’s no need to shout in her face. She can’t understand you.” The legate strode toward Arcona. His cool gazed poured over her. A slight smile lit his lips. “She certainly is dirty, but a simple bath will solve that problem.” He leaned closer. “Her eyes are a stunning shade of green, very earthy. They look a bit crazed, but that’s probably because she’s scared.” He knelt and rubbed his fingers against a few strands of her hair. “I can’t tell beneath the layers of sooty ash, but I think her hair has a touch of scarlet in it. Lift her tunic,” he demanded. “Let’s see if the other thatch of hair matches.”
The soldier lying on top of her pushed her tunic higher. “I’m hard as stone,” he muttered. “Can we take turns with her?”
“No,” the legate said coldly. “We don’t know what we have yet.”
Arcona spit in the soldier’s face and wildly kicked him.
“She’s hurting me!” the soldier complained. He wrestled Arcona into submission. “Get over here and help me!” he barked to his younger companion.
A mean-looking young man approached.
“Draw your knife,” the legate ordered. “Cut these rags off so we can look at her.”
The young man drew a dagger from his hip belt, took hold of the hem of Arcona’s tunic, and sawed the blade against the cloth. The threads popped and tore as the fabric ripped higher.
The young man parted the frayed cloth and gasped. “Look at her; she’s beautiful. Wide hips, big tits, milky skin.” His gaze locked on her. “I’m certain a woman like this has had a man. What fools would let something this tempting walk around and not put their cocks in it?”
The soldier pinning her to the ground looked up at the legate with pleading eyes. “Can I just rub my cock between her thighs?”
Fear swept over her. Arcona fought like a she-bear. She remembered a horrible insult the old scout had dared to teach her. She opened her mouth and screamed, “Vestri Deus Jupiter combibo spurcus gallo of sulum pauper in vicus!”
The legate reeled in shock. “What did you say?”
“You heard me!” Arcona sneered at the Romans. “Your god Jupiter sucks the filthy cocks of every beggar on the street.” She didn’t really know what a street was, but the scout had assured her such a thing was the wrong place for sex.
“Who taught you that?” The legate looked scandalized.
 “Ego narro vestri lingua. Volo veneration.” She spoke slowly with as much authority as she could muster. “I speak your tongue. I want respect. Who is your leader?”
The legate looked flummoxed, as if a bird in the treetops had just spoken to him. “Gaius Julius Civilis is our commander.”
“I have a message for Gaius. Unless you want me to scratch your eyes out with my dirty fingernails, take me to him!”
“All right.” The legate appeared stunned. “I will.”

…Poor Arcona. Her journey is only beginning. She’s nobody fool but some terrible things happen to her that leave her bitter. She’s traded between Romans and sold in the slave market of Pompeii to Dominus Marius a complex character who owns the gladiatorial school where Tyr is held captive. Marius falls in love with Arcona in his own twisted way but you’ll have to read the book and find out what shocking things happen between them. (Hint Marius is kinky…)
Get The Strix:




Book 2 in The Bag Of Tricks book series "Claimed By Dragons" will be released Tuesday September 25th from Loose Id Publishing!

XXOO Kat